There's been a lot of nothing, a lot of something. Maybe I'd feel better if I just drew it all out on a scrap of paper like I seem to do during every afternoon lecture. I'd post them here for preservation, but my scanner's not working. Lots of little nothings strung together in pencil. That's how I've always felt about my writing, too, but I don't write with pencil much anymore.

What I like about doodling is, if I ever get bored with a current "thread", I can just stop and have it trail into whatever else I want to draw or more likely jump to a different blank part of the paper. That's how my mind works; that's how I should write when I'm writing for myself.

Is there anything to write about? Probably, but maybe not out in the open. I feel like my brain wires were all tampered with by some incompetent dude looking for a problem and switching stuff around he shouldn't've been messing with. What real force is this metaphorical dude? I have no idea. It'd be nice to know, I guess. There are always scapegoats, like stress, hormones, iron/vitamin/sunlight/anything deficiencies. They are all valid. They are always all valid. That doesn't help me much. So I'll deal with it.

Nothing is necessarily all bad right now. I'm getting used to some things. I'm rediscovering the fact that I get bored and feel lonely sometimes. That is okay. Without some boredom and loneliness, there wouldn't be as much potential for awesome things happening.

I close my eyes and I see images everywhere.

Without a blank piece of paper, nothing crazy can be drawn.

I should just go draw right now. But as soon as I get away from the computer, I will pass out and lose another pencil in the sheets. (I tried to write in my journal last night from a sudden desire for "poetry" and that is what happened.) but such is the story of 4am creative constipation?

PS. This post reminds me of this last post I ever posted on my Myspace blog when I was packing my crap to take to college for the very first time. More creative constipation, and a bunch of griping about cruddy poetry, I guess. And! To bring it into the light, almost two years later, since nobody cares now! I was feeling blue because I didn't want to be away from my then-boyfriend, and was thinking about breaking up before having to endure long-distance pain. For some reason it feels good to clarify that right now.